


Empty threat.

by Prescottpower



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, LIS, Other, Vulgar Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prescottpower/pseuds/Prescottpower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small little prompt request I did on my blog.</p><p>You can read it (again )here: http://prescottpower.tumblr.com/post/145483320341/empty-threat</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty threat.

Red spots.   
A brain that wasn’t functioning right.  
His fists were curled to the point his knuckles were pasty white, his nails digging into his skin, the blood beginning to draw.

Nobody questioned him as he stomped down the crowded hallway, they stared at him with wide eyes, knowing he had a personal vendetta.  
Against the one and only.  
Max.  
Fucking.  
Caulfield.  
That nosy bitch always getting into business that wasn’t fucking hers.  
How the fuck did she know he had a gun anyways? Was she hiding in the bathroom like some creep?  
Boy, oh boy, did he see fire right now.

He carried a bucket in one hand, it was full of pig’s blood.  
Was this a little fucked up? Maybe to your average human being, but Nathan was anything but average, instead more fucked up than he’d like to admit.

All he knew was that he wasn’t letting Caulfield off without a warning.

“What’s he carrying in his hand? It’s splashing on the floor…” He could hear Dana whisper to her bestie, Juliet.  
“I don’t know...we should go into our room. Maybe.”   
Nathan began to heat up at the sound of people talking about him, so he turned around, the blood splashing on his leg, warm. Gross.  
“You will if you know what’s good for you, bitch!” His voice was full of rage, a gun tucked into his waistband, hidden by his jacket...just in case.  
Always just in case.

Dana rolled her eyes as she tugged on Juliet’s arm.  
She was mumbling.  
They were always mumbling.  
“Got some shit to say, whore?” his eyes dug into her skull, her skin beginning to fill up with chills.  
“Fuck you, Prescott!”  
The door slammed.  
He’d ruin her life later.

Victoria stood outside of her dorm, with a dumbfounded Courtney and Taylor behind her.  
“What’s going on, Nathan?”  
Nathan shook his head.  
“Stay out of this, Vic.”  
He tilted his head,   
“Where’s Max Caulfield?”  
Victoria knew he was out for blood as soon as his famous revenge seeking smirk was plastered on his face.  
“My guess is in the shower.”  
“Good.”  
And with that, he was in her room. Laughing at the fact the dumbass left her door unlocked.  
His hands tapped on his thighs, what to destroy, what to destroy?  
His eyes looked around her room.  
So many possibilities.  
He’d burn her dorm to the fucking ground if he could.  
To think his family was supporting her scholarship.

He paced around her room, his hands gripping the corner of her desk as a wave of nauseousness hit him directly in the head.  
“Fuck…”  
Too many drugs.  
Who was he kidding?  
Not enough drugs.

He sat down in her chair, and looked at her computer, mumbled while he did it.  
Looked at her posters, strummed her guitars and debated shouting at the top of his lungs.  
Ran his fingers across the cotton fabric of her shirts, this bitch had no taste.  
Victoria was right.  
Nathan hated the fact that the 5 minutes he had been here, he was already familiar...comfortable.  
Feeling better.  
Like, it felt right to be in here...or something.

Nathan looked at the photos taped on her wall.  
Her tiny figure posing, her wide smile, her freckles, and bright, dream filled eyes.  
He hated it.  
He hated it so much.  
And suddenly he was as angry as before.

He hated her.  
Himself.  
He hated the way he just couldn’t be happy, no matter how hard he fucking tried.  
He hated the way he had to drink to forget, and smoke to feel, and sleep to dream.  
He hated his family.  
His failure of a family, could you even call it a family?  
He hated his medicine, and how he was promised happiness, but where was it when he needed it now?

He tore down her photo, staring at it in his bruised, and shaking hands.  
Her genuine smile.  
He tucked it in his pocket, next to a bag of weed he had.

He dipped his finger into the bucket, grimacing slightly at the feeling of it.  
He began writing, frantically, as if this was his only way to calm himself.  
Voices in the hallway that made him jumpy, the sunshine that floated in Max’s room made him even more agitated.

He stood back, and reviewed his masterpiece.  
He ruined her dumbass photo wall, and felt proud of that too.  
Nobody messes with me bitch.  
A warning.  
Most would call it an empty threat, but it was a threat that certainly was not empty.

A smirk, back on his face again.   
Fists, clenched tight again.  
Biting the inside of his cheek as he groaned to himself.

He took out the creation he had made that night, high on acid, mixing alcohol with his meds...again.  
A beautiful black and white cutout of only her head taped onto a platter, leaned against a goat with it’s tongue out.

If she doesn’t know now to stay out of his fucking way, she should get it by now.  
Leaving her room, the air was heavier, he knew he was struggling to breathe, the drugs effect beginning to fade away.

Victoria stood outside of her room still,  
Nathan leaned against her shoulder,  
“Let me know the idiot’s reaction, will ya, Vic?”  
Victoria smiled as she nodded, and he was on his way.  
Pig’s blood splashing on the dorm floor.  
A bag of weed in his pocket.  
Leaned up against it, a picture of Max.

Max.


End file.
